


Sunday Morning

by queenallyababwa



Category: Charlie and the Chocolate Factory - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Augustus is a (relatively) moody teenager and copes by repression, F/M, Family Drama, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Implied Sexual Content, Mr Gloop isn't dead, Mrs Gloop is only somewhat oblivious, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-13
Updated: 2018-01-14
Packaged: 2019-03-04 02:40:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13354773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenallyababwa/pseuds/queenallyababwa
Summary: On Sunday morning, the Gloop family life hangs in the balance.





	1. Friday

**Author's Note:**

> This all started because of the observation by my friend Alan and I that none of the GTWs had siblings (and that's probably for good reason.) We came up with a ridiculous and I mean RIDICULOUS amount of fanon for the Gloops and eventually, it turned into this story. 
> 
> Another inspiration was the Bob's Burgers fic "on the offchance" by weatheredlaw, which more eloquently deals with a settled family facing changes ( also ngl Bob and Linda Belcher are a huge inspiration for my characterization of Mr and Mrs Gloop.) 
> 
> This fic was just kinda for myself and Alan, but I decided to share it here after like a year of debate since Charlie is closing soon and I had to mark it in some way with content. Is it the content everyone wants? Probably not. But these Germans have brought me such joy over the last five years. And I know the wealthy heiress and the gum-chewing diva and the computer whizz and the poor boy and the chocolatier have brought everyone else joy. Posting this, I guess, is my way of saluting them as the musical finishes its final performances and dealing with this change in my life.
> 
> Thank you.

Friday afternoon could not inch any slower, it seemed. With a long weekend looming over their head, and Thanksgiving break only two weeks within reach, the students were incredibly distracted from school work. The minutes ticked like hours during last period, and Augustus and Charlie and Mike were all incessantly taking turns looking up at the clock while they worked on their ecosystem worksheet at a lab table. Clearly, their biology teacher didn't seem to care too much about today as well, because she was on her computer the entire time, hunched over and scrolling through an article. 

"What did you write for number five?" Charlie asked Mike, looking down at the almost paragraph length answer he had scribbled down in response. 

"Why are you asking me, Chuck?" Mike raised an eyebrow. "You look like you wrote The Great American Novel on that page."

"We're a team?" 

Mike scoffed. 

“Ask Gus what he got,” Mike said, motioning with his pen to the other boy who was staring at the poster of fish of the North American riverways.

"Are you alright, Augustus?" Charlie asked.  

Augustus hadn't even finished question three. He blinked down at the blank answers and them back up at Charlie. "I'm fine. I just didn't sleep well last night, that's all."

"Get used to it Gus," Mike told him, flipping over his paper to the backside, not even caring that Augustus was in the dust. “You’re probably not sleeping for like another two years.”

Augustus sighed and rubbed his eyes.

"Isn't it supposed to happen, like, today?" Mike asked.

"It is not until the middle of next week," Augustus affirmed. "Or, later, hopefully."

"Yeah, but it basically could be anytime now," Mike told him. “You know how this thing works, right? Like it could be happening right now and you wouldn’t even know it -”

"I'm sure your parents would have pulled you out of class if it happened today," Charlie added. “It’s going to be fine, Augustus.”

Charlie had been reassuring him that since day one, and although normally would have found this repeated mantra relaxing, this idea of  _ what will be, will be _ wasn’t always completely comforting. It was an effort, but what does one exactly say to a person who only has five days (or less . . . ) of the life he’s known for the past thirteen years? Sure, a continental move had been traumatic but at least with that - even with learning a new language, a new culture, a new money system, a new everything - the Gloop family consisted of mother, father, and son. 

Now it’d be mother, father, son  _ and daughter _ .

“I mean, not like we can give expert advice on anything,” Mike added. “Since you’re the only one out of us who’ll have to deal with a screaming child every night. But maybe it won’t suck entirely?”

The five-minute bell rang, but it might as well had been the end of the day bell because sure enough, students scooted out from underneath lab tables and papers shuffled into folders and backpacks. Ms. Hunterston didn’t even glance up from the online article she was so engrossed in.

As they shuffled their papers together and fussed with their backpacks, the class erupted in chatter about their weekend plans, as if they hadn’t been engrossed in it already.

“So, your last weekend as an only child.” Mike began unzipping his backpack and stuffing the biology worksheet into the black JanSport void without any care about tucking it into a folder. “Last chance you can get away with murder.”

“I don’t think I could get away with murder . . .” Augustus said.

“Got anything planned?” Mike clarified the idiom.

“I am most likely working,” Augustus told him as he began to work with his own backpack.

“Ew.”

Augustus shrugged. 

“What about Sunday?” Charlie asked, diplomatically.

“Sunday?” Augustus thought the typical Sunday Gloop routine. 

The family went to Mass at nine that morning, got breakfast somewhere after, and then they went on to tie up loose ends before another busy week. Mama alternated between organizing paperwork for the butcher shop and knitting or tidying up the home. Vati caught up on a good book or did some yard work. And Augustus finished up homework before enjoying his limited free time watching television. As this was the day he was always free, Vati usually let him go do something out of the house. However, being so close to the baby’s arrival, he probably wanted Augustus to stay home and help get everything spotless.

“I could ask,” he said.

Mike and Charlie started planning out what they could possibly do. Augustus didn’t pay much attention for the next three minutes as he toyed with things in his backpack, but he heard about the new movie that was playing downtown that seemed fun. Charlie retorted that a scary movie was not what Augustus wanted to see at all and then it turned into Mike trying to convince him that it was more of a comedy than anything . . .

The bell rang precisely at three-seventeen and in a frantic rush to the door, lab stools scooted from out underneath seventh-graders and backpacks swung onto shoulders.

“ _ Finish that paper and turn it on Monday, _ ” Ms. Hunterson called after the swarm of students trampling over each other to get out of the lab. “Have a good weekend!”

Augustus, Mike, and Charlie shuffled out after the dust had settled, out into the madness of the Friday afternoon rush. 

“But seriously, Gus,” Mike continued their discussion as they all walked down to the locker bay. “We gotta treat you. Get pizza, see a movie. We’ll make it a day.”

Augustus smile and nodded.

“Til then, hang in there.” Mike punched his shoulder. 

Mike went in the opposite direction as Augustus and Charlie, where the “T” lockers were. As their last names were close enough together in the alphabet, Charlie and Augustus were only a few rows apart. But soon enough, they had to go their own ways as well.

“You’ll keep us updated about this weekend?” Charlie asked before they parted. Augustus nodded as Charlie smiled at him.

Augustus went to his locker and twirled the lock to his combination, stuffed his copy of  _ Call of the Wild _ back into the pocket, noting that he had to read the first three chapters for next Wednesday, before grabbing his coat, scarf, and hat, and heading out towards the waiting buses in the chilly November day.

When Augustus shuffled off the bus on the corner of Linden and Fir and emerged into the butcher shop, everything seemed in their normal forms Friday afternoon. Journey played over the radio softly and Mama was washing a bowl at the sink. She looked content and seemed to not be in any sort of pain. Which meant that it wasn't happening at least today. 

"Hello, pumpkin," she greeted as she set the bowl down and turned off the tap. While Augustus hung his outerwear and backpack on the wooden hooks by the door next to Mama’s knitted capelet hung alongside Vati’s jacket.

Mama walked over to the counter, wiping her wet hands on her apron."Did you have a nice Friday?"

"It was good." Augustus met her halfway in front of the counter where she stood. 

She tried to lean over the counter to kiss him, seemingly forgetting she was nine months pregnant at the moment and when she couldn't she laughed. Instead, she kissed her finger and tapped his cheek. "There we go," she giggled. "So, any homework this weekend?"

"Not much," Augustus answered truthfully."I just have some biology to work on that I didn't finish in class,"

"Good! Then we can go out to dinner tonight," she returned to the sink as Augustus opened the little door that leads him back behind the counter, into his normal sphere in the shop. "I really don't feel like cooking tonight - or even tomorrow."

Before  _ all this, _ Mama used to cook every day and was always up to the task of wiping something together after a long day at the butcher shop. But now she was too tired standing on her feet ten hours a day to do anything remotely more tasking than laying on the couch, knitting something for the baby with one movie or another on. 

Even before her belly prevented her from reaching the back of the stove to turn on the timer, she was struggling with what she did best. There wasn't a time in March or April when she didn't collapse on the couch almost immediately after coming home to take a power nap. At that point, Augustus was actually really worried something was wrong with his Mama, that she was sick.

(Turns out she had something that would go away in nine months.)

Not that he was entirely complaining. The Gloop family was eating out so often and because of this, they often switched up where they went every night. One night could be pasta and breadsticks at an Italian place, the next it would be Mongolian beef and egg rolls. Back when Mama was cooking, it would be a lot of his favorites: sauerbraten and schnitzel and sauerkraut. He kind of liked having a different cultural experience every night.

Of course, Vati, who was starting to get very concerned with money as of lately, was a little unhappy with this. 

“When the baby comes,” he had said over the sounds of a mariachi music when the family had stopped at a Mexican place that Monday, “we aren’t eating out until she can have solids.”

So even his days eating out were limited.

“Do you need help with the dishes, Mama?” Augustus asked as he watched her walk back to the sink.

“If you don’t mind,” she said with a sigh and a smile. She turned on the tap and handed him a rag and he watched the blog flow down the drain. 

“You know, it’s been quiet today,” she said conspiratorially after a few minutes and the radio switched on to a Gun’s and Roses’ rock song. “Maybe we can convince your father to close early. Wouldn’t that be nice?”

“Yeah,” Augustus agreed, running a small knife underneath the cool off the sink. He set it aside to be dried and went to work on the large hook. 

“What would you like for dinner, pumpkin?” Mama asked. 

For a while, the restaurants had been dictated by what Mama was craving, but Augustus had noticed a trend in the past two weeks or so where she’d ask what he was hungry for instead of saying, “I could go for . . .”. It took him a while to realize perhaps this wasn’t because she had lost her hunger, but perhaps it was something of a consolation that in the very near future, he’d be losing his place as her baby.

It had been an odd six months with this transition. For as long as he could remember, Augustus had been doted on by his mother. Even at thirteen years old, she still used pet names and terms of endearment as though he was a small child. He was her “tiny little pickle” and her “baby boy”.  But soon there would be an  _ actual  _ baby in the house deserving of such nicknames. And to compensate for this, she started going out of her way to do things for him. She’d bring home his favorite sweet baked goods for dessert. She’d suddenly have small presents - a watch, a pair of new knitted socks, his favorite Wonka Bars - for him, waiting on his bedside table when he got home. She put up a better front against Vati if he wanted to skip work Saturday morning to do something with Mike or Charlie.

Augustus didn’t know quite how to feel about all of this. On the one hand, nothing Mama could do could ever really ease this life-changing event. On the other, he liked the little things and hoped that they wouldn’t stop once the baby came. 

Vati appeared from behind the archway, from out of the workroom and into the actual store. He looked just as tired as Mama did and Augustus knew it wasn’t going to be a hard battle to convince him to go out to eat tonight. 

“You just get back, Augustus?” He asked, wiping his sausage-meat covered hands with a towel.

“Yeah,” Augustus answered. Mama grabbed the knives and began to towel-dry each carefully.

“Much homework?” Vati implored, tossing the soiled towel onto the marble counter. With now cleaner hands, he adjusted his glasses. 

“Just some biology.”

“Good. I need you all day tomorrow. Aaron called off. Some stuff about visiting his grandmother or something?”

“All day,  _ Schatz _ ?” Mama was so focused on her knife drawing, but she didn’t seem pleased.

“Unless you’d like to come in,” Vati sighed, defeated. “We don’t have anyone else.”

“I’m not much use anymore during the Saturday rush,” Mama confessed. The knives were all dried and ready to be put back in their wooden holder for the next morning - their busiest day of the week. With a laugh and a hand to her swollen stomach, she added, “I’m too slow and would probably keep bumping into you.”

Although Mama had humor about this situation, Vati couldn’t seem to find the silver lining. Augustus chimed in, “Maybe it won’t be so busy?”

If being understaffed was one of Vati’s greatest fears, then having a low crowd on their last busy day before an extended leave was his absolute worst. He visibly paled at the idea of a slow day before being dumped with weighty hospital bills. “Let’s hope not.”

“I can do it, Vati,” Augustus assured him, firmly, because he knew what that was what his father needed to hear right now.

“That’s my boy,” Mama cooed, actually being able to lean over and kiss his forehead this time around. She turned to her husband. “But since we’re so dead today, do you think we should close up early? It’d save us on some expenses at least.”

Vati sighed again. “It has been slow.” 

And then he gave the executive demand that they should start packing things up for the day. With a triumphant smile to Augustus, Mama headed to her spot behind the cash register and began to work on the closing paperwork and securing the cashbox for the night.

Finally, they got to turn the sign over, signaling their last Friday before the baby. They bundled back up into coats and shuffled out the back door towards the car. Augustus filed into his seat in the back bench and stared at the infant car seat that had been strapped in two weeks ago. Even with those two weeks, it's shiny, brand-new presence seemed so weirdly foreign. 

(He couldn’t imagine in days he’d be sitting next to his sister, a squirming infant’s presence even stranger than her car seat.)

Vati started the engine to warm them up, but also to finally settle on the destination.“Back home or?”

“Dietrich, nobody is feeling like going back and cooking,” Mama told him. “Besides, it’s a Friday night. . .”

“We can go out,” Vati sighed, admitting defeat.

“Augustus, honey, where’d you like to go?” Mama craned her neck around to look at Augustus sitting in the back. 

“Yard House?” Augustus said because he had been bouncing around a couple ideas in his head for where they should go for dinner. 

“ _ Ach _ . Yard House is expensive,” Vati huffed. “ And it’s far away. Pick something else.”

“If nobody orders steak, it’s not that bad,” Mama reasoned. 

In the end, with Mama’s persuasion, they drove the half hour to the next town over, to the Yard House. When they pulled into the shopping plaza where it was located, they had difficulty finding a spot. Through the darkened windows of the restaurant, they could see the buzz of activity inside, people almost pressing up against the glass like a terrarium. 

“ _ Dammit _ ,” Vati mumbled to himself, adjusting his glasses and stopped in front of Yard House’s door. He turned to Mama. “You get out and see if we can get a table.” He craned his neck around to the back seat. “Augustus, follow your mother, make sure someone gives up their seat for her.”

Augustus unsnapped the seat belt and tumbled out of the van, following Mama as Vati rolled away to go on a quest to find the parking spot. 

It was painfully crowded inside, the whole restaurant dark and loud. Mama looked pretty defeated when she saw how many people she would have to push aside to try and get to the hostess stand.

“Augustus, I’m going to wait here,” she told him with a slight sigh. “Go ask how long the wait is.” 

Augustus did as he was told and pushed through the crowds towards the front of the lobby. When he finally made it to the hostess stand, the whole situation seemed to be just as stressful for those working behind the counter as for those waiting. The young woman working behind the stand, marking off tables with a dry-erase pen, did not expect a thirteen-year-old boy to approach her.

“Miss?”

“Oh!” She looked up from her work, capping the pen. “How many tonight?”

“Three,” Augustus answered. 

“And the name?”

“Gloop.”

The woman seemed hesitant writing the last name down, but the typed it into the computer nonetheless. She looked up, her blonde ponytail swishing behind her. “It’s going to be a forty-five-minute wait.”

“Okay.”

Augustus braved the crowd and find his mother. He found her standing with Vati, who was looking vehemently at the young couples currently taking up the benches. In the swarm of English conversation buzzing around them, he could hear Vati hiss in German, “They can’t give up a seat for a pregnant woman.”

Mama adjusted her caplet and leaned against the wall, placing her hands on her stomach. “I’m fine standing here, Dietrich.”

“For forty-five minutes?” Augustus asked.

“Forty-five minutes?” Vati echoed. He only continued to stare darkly at the one couple, scrolling through their phones. Augustus thought surely he would have grabbed Mama’s hand and pulled out of the restaurant to somewhere they didn’t have to wait for very long, but they stayed.

It was difficult finding room against the wall, but Vati managed to lean up against the wall catty-corner to Mama while Augustus hovered next to her. Completely drained from a long day in the butcher shop, Vati closed his eyes and tried to remove himself from this dark, cramped, restaurant he never cared about and didn’t hear the older woman standing next to Mama remark, “You must be due any day now.”

Out in public, before the last four months, they used to get comments only when they opened their mouth and spoke. The woman behind the counter at the grocery asked them where they were from. The waiter at the cafe told a crazy story of the time his roommate went backpacking through Vienna -  _ that was in Germany, right? _

Recently, however, the comments were not so much about a family speaking a language rarely heard in their little town and more so, of course, that they’d soon be having a fourth German-speaker chatting amongst them. Augustus couldn’t even count how many times they had been stopped while running errands by people asking about the baby and giving them advice. He knew Vati wasn’t a fan when people stopped them in their tracks to ask Mama how far along she was or if she knew she was having a boy or a girl. But Mama was always cheerful about it. 

Mama smiled and said, “Wednesday, actually.”

“Wednesday!” The woman exclaimed. “Why, when I was that far along with any of my children, I never wanted to leave the house.”

“Well, it was either make dinner or going out to eat,” Mama told her.

Now on a level understanding, the woman laughed before asking, “Do you know what you’re having yet?”

“A girl,” Mama answered. “And I have a baby boy who just turned thirteen last February.”

“That’s quite an age difference!” The woman exclaimed, the natural reaction to the fact that Augustus would be driving before this baby started Kindergarten. 

“Elsie! Come sit over here! ” Vati called, his German breaking through the crowd once more as he motioned for her to come over to the bench.

Mama turned to the elderly stranger and said, “My husband found a place for me to sit down.”

“Good luck,” the woman said, waving as Augustus followed his mother back to where Vati was. But Mama seemed like she had something different in mind.

“I have an idea  _ mein Schatz _ ,” she told him, thrusting her purse towards him and grabbing her belly dramatically, making every effort to emphasize her pregnancy.

( It was in that moment that Augustus thought back to when the Gloops had gone to a restaurant with the Teavees the week before that was almost equally crowded. He remembered how Mrs. Teavee, much to Mama’s chagrin, had tried to make an entrance by proclaiming, “Hey, move out of the way. Lady with a baby here.”)

But he guessed that desperate times called for desperate measures and she was just taking a page out of Mrs. Teavee playbook.

Two minutes later, Mama waddled back to where Vati and Augustus stood in puzzlement and motioned for them to follow her as the hostess over the loudspeaker called, “Gloop, party of three.” As they walked back the crowds, Mama looked over his shoulder with a prideful smirk, and both Augustus and Vati were too smart to question her methods. Nobody could say anything about getting dinner quicker.

The dinner was pleasant enough - they always were - but two hours later, emerging from total darkness, there was a sense of finality to the whole thing. This was their last dinner out as a family of three. The next time they would be at a restaurant, a highchair would be attached to the end of the table and Mama would still be nursing the baby. 

The ride home was quieter than the drive to Yard House, a contented, full silence following over them. Christmas tunes played on a station while Mama flipped through channels. (“A little too early, but I’ll take it!” she exclaimed brightly, turning up “Most Wonderful Time of the Year” to fill the car.)

In his changing world, driving into Cape Willow was finally starting to feel normal- they had only been living in the neighborhood since January - and Augustus was starting to feel at home at 145 Hollows Road after 789 Linden Street had been his address for so long ( even though part of him could never give up Untermarkt 50.) The gable front house in the middle of the street with the red door no longer was the place that Mama had been talking about renting for months or a shell that the family hadn’t quite grown into yet. It was finally the Gloop home.

As the family stumbled in from the frozen November night in through the back door after parking the car, Augustus was finally at ease to peel off his jacket and kick off his shoes into the closet. 

The rest of the night was quiet. They all agreed to watch a movie together, though while it was playing, Mama was working on rounding the heel of another pair of baby socks. After the film, Augustus, fearing his long shift the next morning, decided to go to bed a little early. He bided Mama and Vati goodnight as they turned something on from the DVR.

As he walked up the stairs, he saw the cracked open door of the nursery, all ready for when the baby arrived. 

Long ago, when 145 Hollows Road was just a dream on a flyer Mama found posted to the supermarket’s local news bulletin board, she was so excited about the three bedrooms because she would finally have her own home office. In the tiny apartment above the butcher shop, there was hardly space for her to work in the comfort of her own home. She was never happier than when the movers brought up the countless boxes of files and the ancient roll-top desk that had been Opa’s when he was an accountant. But now, her excitement had been channeled over to the nursery.

(There was a tiny moment of mourning as Augustus and Vati took the printer out and downstairs to the desk’s new home.)

Mama had been so on-edge with buying anything for the baby, fearing that it would bring bad luck onto the family. Shortly after she starting to be more open with her pregnancy, Mrs. Teavee offered to throw her an American-style baby shower, but Mama refused; she didn’t want to tempt fate. But in the last two or three months, she became paranoid about having  _ nothing _ for this child, and thus, Augustus was subjected to being dragged along on Saturday evenings and odd hours to furniture stores and Babies R’ Us-es all over the county. 

The furniture that had been hand-picked and agonized over sat in  _ the perfect place _ . The chifferobe against the wall closest to Augustus, the changing table on the other. Near the window, a rocking chair was placed. Against the far wall, was the crib, simple and old-fashioned, the white cable knit blanket Mama had labored over for months slung over the railing. Above the crib, one of Opa’s watercolors of Mittenwald at sundown hung framed, his neat scrawl of  _ Adelbrecht Pottle, 1976  _ on the bottom right-hand corner.

(Augustus remembered when Mama had found that painting while trying to find some of his baby things in the attic and how she was so melancholy for the rest of the day after finding it.) 

His bedroom was right next door and as he undressed, tugged on his pajamas, and tucked himself into the bed, he was thankful for the stillness that he knew wouldn’t last much longer.

***

_ She watched her husband shuffle around to find a suitable work shirt from her spot on the bed,  _

_ “I've missed this.”  _

_ She laid on her side and smiled at him, pulling at the bedsheet. _

_ Dietrich looked up as he pulled out a blue checkered shirt hanging over the vanity’s chair. With a coy smile himself, he folded the shirt over his arm, clearly flushed at what they had just done. They weren’t nineteen anymore but the spontaneity reminded them both of when they were just a young married couple, dirt poor and overworked but still passionate. _

_ It had been decades since either of them rolled over, first thing in the morning, and kissed each other in a way that lead to giggling and adventurous hands. _

_ But here they were. Their tryst had been unexpected and had definitely thrown their Saturday morning routine off course. Elsie knew that soon Dietrich would work himself up about the shirt not being pressed or that they had to meet the beef delivery in an hour, but for now, she relished the thought that he  _ loved  _ her in all senses of the word. _

_ When the marital counselor they started seeing in January suggested intimate time - giving them “homework” to guide them - she never expected for Dietrich and herself to pick up so quickly on the lessons. In the three weeks since their last session in the middle of February, they had been more attentive to each other than they had been in years.  _

_ “Me too,” Dietrich admitted as he fussed with the shirt. A look of contemplation spread over his face as he tried to determine if he was going to need to heat up the iron downstairs before they headed to work.  _

_ Elsie sat up in bed and pulled the tousled bed sheet along with her. The vanity across the bed reflected how she looked at the early in the morning, after their encounter and she cringed. _

_ Elsie asked with a small laugh as she ran a hand through the strands of hair that had escaped her braid, “Am I really so irresistible with smudged, day-old eyeliner and my hair all over the place?” _

_ Dietrich chuckled, “Only if I am with morning breath” Deciding once and for all that he was just going to wear the shirt, he pulled it over his shoulders and began to work on the row of buttons. “I’m just glad that you’re back to your normal self.” _

_ Last week, Elsie had an awful flu-like bug for a few days. Augustus had had something like it earlier that month, but it was peculiar that it took so long for Elsie to catch it. If disease spread among the family, it was like a domino effect. But she didn’t let it bother her so much, even though she was still feeling a little green around the gills.  _

_ “See? I didn’t need to see a doctor,” Elsie insisted. Day three of her illness and Dietrich was ready to carry her himself to a clinic to make sure she was okay. The next morning, she was walking around, but still, Dietrich persisted on her being seen by someone. Just to be sure.  _

_ “You’re beginning to sound like me,” Dietrich told her, finishing up her buttons.  _

_ Elsie positioned herself so she could reach over the bed and grab the nightgown she had tossed aside. “I know, and you know how much I worried about Augustus when he wa -” her voice trailed off as she craned her neck to find the white cotton dress but was flooded with overwhelming dizziness. She mumbled something and rolled over in bed, closing her eyes as she took an even breath to subdue her sickness. _

_ “Elsie?” Dietrich’s voice was soft as he watched his wife try to regain her composure. _

_ “Sorry,  _ mein Schatz _ ,” she sighed. “I was dizzy there for a moment. All the . . . blood rushing to my head. You know.” _

_ When the opened her eyes, she could still see Dietrich fumbling with the button tentatively. He was usually an outspoken man, but for some reason, he was left silent.  _

_ “So maybe I’m still a little sick,” Elsie said slowly, defeated. “Or at the least, a little worn out from this. Remember all those years ago when you got pneumonia?” _

_ “I wasn’t the same for a while after that,” Dietrich admitted. For a moment, he thought back to that awful winter of ‘99 when he was in bed for two weeks, his parents coming out of semi-retirement at the butcher shop to look after the store that was his own. He paused, before continuing, “Augustus had the same thing as you and went back to school with no dizziness by the end of the week.” _

_ “Yes, well, Augustus is quite a bit younger than I am,” Elsie admitted. She was approaching forty-three quicker than she allowed herself to believe and she was definitely starting to feel the wearing effects of her age, especially when she thought about how youthful her son was.  _

_ And even with her age and the lingering side effects, she was getting worried that this flu had knocked her off course in more ways than one as she counted days away from red circles on her calendar.   _

_ She sighed and turned to her husband. “If this persists any more,  I’ll take the day off and ring up Doctor Webber. Yes?” _

_ “Yes.” Dietrich finished the last button, walked over to Elsie. He brushed aside her blonde hair as he kissed her freckled cheek. It was a tenderness that she had missed just as much as the passion that had come before.  _

_ “You’ll see a doctor?” Dietrich asked, one more time for good measure and Elsie couldn’t help but be endeared by how genuine he was about her well being.  _

_ “I’ll see a doctor _ , _ ” she confirmed.  _

_ “Good.  And I’ll go start on breakfast.” _

_ Those were the best words he could have said to her. _

_ Elsie rolled onto her back and grinned as he left their bedroom for the kitchen. She couldn’t believe how blessed she was in this new year. Last year, after the death of her father and a strained relationship with her husband, she vowed that everything would change for the better. So far, it truly was. A new house that she loved, a thriving business, and a husband who - after twenty-five years - still loved her.  _

_ Now only if this damned stomach flu would go away. _


	2. Saturday

Augustus awoke to the sounds of a heavy fist against his door. His heart jumped and rolled over in bed, sitting up in bed. Panic stuck through him; it was still dark outside, the streetlamps outside cast against his bedroom wall and it could only mean one thing -

“Augustus, wake up! We have to meet the men from Hillcrest Beef in an hour.”

_ Oh. _

Augustus fell back against the warm embrace of his bed with a soft  _ off! _ , soothed by Vati’s booming voice and typical Saturday-morning urgency. He took a deep breath before reaching up and turning on the lamp on his bedside table, cringing at the sudden bright light. 

Just another Saturday morning, he followed the motions of tugging on a pair of jeans, buttoning a shirt, and tugging a sweater overtop the entire ensemble. He brushed his fingers through his hair before he headed downstairs for breakfast.

Everything was just in its Saturday place. Coffee was brewing. A spread of rolls and jam was set on the table, although none of the plates were. Vati was rifling through the refrigerator, the sliced ham, and cheese close to the chest as he dug for the bowl of pre-cut cucumbers and tomatoes.

“Augustus, get the silverware please,” Vati said as he shut the fridge. He set the food on the counter. 

Augustus was already a step ahead when Vati asked this, walking straight to the cabinet where they kept their dishes and cups, collecting three of each. Vati saw the third plate and shook his head, explaining. “Your mother’s sleeping, so -”

“Not anymore,” Mama’s voice called out as she walked down the stairs. Her bathrobe was shrugged over her nightgown and her hair had been haphazardly pulled up into a bun.

(She used to be such an early riser, but more and more Augustus was getting accustomed to waiting for her for breakfast and seeing her in her pajamas.)

“ _ I  _ wanted to sleep, but  _ Schwesterlein  _ wasn’t buying it,” Mama explained, cupping a hand over her stomach. “She started kicking again.”

Augustus and his mother crossed paths as she headed for the coffee pot and he went to set the table. 

“You sure you don’t need my help this morning?” Mama asked as she busied herself with filling a mug that proclaimed in English, “Jokes About German Sausages Are The  _ Wurst! _ ”

“No, we’ll be fine,” Vati assured her, though he seemed already stressed about the day ahead as he arranged meat on the serving plate. 

“Good, because last night Doris texted me about going out to lunch today,” Mama told him, smiling softly to herself as she put creamer into her mug and sipped. “And I don’t know when we’ll be able to go out again like this . . . ”

Vati looked at her and shook his head. Mama laughed and he kissed her cheek. 

Augustus and his father hurriedly ate their bread while Mama sipped her coffee and read the newspaper from yesterday, stopping from her leisurely breakfast every few minutes to lean back and grumble to herself about the baby kicking.

“She’s definitely going to be a morning person,” Mama noted when she had to set down her paper for the third time during breakfast, just as Vati stood up to wash the dishes. She turned to Augustus, her comment caught on a laugh, “You were such a sleepy little baby, you’d nap all day if you could.”

“I’d still nap all day if I could,” Augustus retorted with a look at his father, who was scrubbing his breakfast plate intently.

“Augustus, be ready in ten minutes,” his father said as he shut the running water off and flung his hands over the sink. 

As his father went upstairs to finish getting dressed, Augustus stood up with two extra buttered rolls in hand, dirty dish in the other. Just as he was about to leave the kitchen Mama called him over. She set her newspaper - the  _ Around Town _ section - down.  

“ _ Liebchen _ ,” she began softly. “Is there you want to do this weekend. I know you would rather spend today with your friends than work, but you don’t know how much stepping in like this means to your father and I. So if there’s anything I can do -”

“Well,” Augustus admitted. He looked over his shoulder, didn’t hear the heavy footsteps of his father. “Mike and Charlie wanted to see a movie tomorrow. Maybe grab a pizza afterward?”

“That sounds wonderful,” Mama said. “I’ll ask Doris about it today at lunch. We can definitely arrange something for after church tomorrow.”

“Augustus!” Vati’s voice came from upstairs. 

Augustus whipped his head, looking away from his mother and called, “Coming!”

“Have a good day,  my little pickle.”

***

_ She looked at herself in the mirror, nearly unable to recognize the woman staring back at her - a woman with tears in her eyes, a smile on her face, a laugh caught in her throat. The woman in a mirror was on the brink of forty-three and looked it - crows feet collected at the corner of her crying eyes, her freckles darker with age and sun, the hands that wipe her tears away are worn with twenty-four years as a butcher's wife, the diamond on her right hand the same place it was placed all of those years ago . But this woman was going to be a mama again. _

_ Elsie let that laugh loose as she pondered that strange concept again. She's gonna be a mama again. _

_ Dietrich knocked at the door softly, and Elsie prayed he hadn't heard her crying. His voice is his usual tone, so she doubted he heard her. "Are you almost ready?" _

_ Through her tears and her laugh, she somehow managed to sound normal. "Almost ready." _

_ She looked at herself one last time before she looked down to the evidence of the last five minutes in the bathroom sitting perched on the edge of the sink, it's plus signs clear as crystal. She hadn't exactly thought about what came after with this - if she should tell Dietrich right now or wait. Years ago, these sticks on sinks were a regular occurrence but less so were the plus signs. And then after the first three hopes that became illusions, she stopped telling her husband when she was late, until, of course, she was expecting Augustus.  _

_ But . . .  this was the first time she had been two weeks late in a long, long time. The last time something like this happened, Augustus had just learned to tie his shoelaces - or maybe even when he learned how to put on his shirt without any aid and not get it backward. _

_ Looking at the pink outline, she allowed herself to dream for a minute more. She could see the next year - the next five years- ahead of her. The exhaustion brought on by everything in another pregnancy and another labor and delivery and then the prospect of another lifetime raising another child, sure. But the sweet smell of baptism oil, Johnston and Johnston cream, birthday cake, new crayons filled her nose. The feel of wooly yarn passing through fingers as she knit a teeny baby sweater. The brush of brand-new skin against her lips. The warmth of another babysitting in her lap as she played the piano.  _

_ It was a lovely dream. _

_ Back to reality. _

_ Elsie opened the lower cabinet and tucked the test in an old makeup bag - somewhere she was sure the men would never look - and then wiped her eyes with toilet paper, careful around the makeup, threw the paper away, straightened her dress and fixed a bobby pin before she opened the door. _

_ “I’m ready,  _ Schatz _ ,” she called to Dietrich, whom she found sitting in the living room.  _

_ “Wonderful. The store will only be -” he checked the clock on the wall, “- ten minutes or so late opening.” _

_ “Oh, it’ll be fine.” Elsie tried to shake off the annoyance with her husband for being annoyed at her. She grabbed her purse on its place on the hook by the back door. “Not many people want to buy meat this early, anyway.” _

_ “Somebody might,” Dietrich said, grabbing the car keys.  _

_ Elsie huffed and reached for her sweater, tugging it on the face the mid-March chill. She walked to the car and sat in the passenger side. Dietrich started the truck and pulled out of their driveway and down the oak-tree-lined street, they had traded their apartment life for. Already, the neighborhood was abuzz with activity - spouses beginning their work commute, elementary school-aged children shuffled out, and stay-at-home mothers pushed prams down the sidewalk under the budding trees. _

_ In a couple of months, she could be pushing a pram down their street. Augustus’ old one was still in their attic; she didn’t have the heart to give it away. Once upon a time she had put her son in it and tried to make him sleepy with a stroll through the town.  She could remember her view as she peered down into the pram. He looked so sweet in his jumper and socks, clinging to a stuffed bear with one hand while the other was in his mouth. She wondered if this baby would have the same habit of sucking on its two middle fingers like Augustus had.  _

_ She hardly noticed Dietrich had turned on the radio or that they were already on the edge of town. He slowed to a stop at the red light. _

_ “You okay?” _

_ “I’m . . . ” Was now the time to tell him? _

_ Not yet. Not quite yet. “I’m lovely.” _

_ “‘Lovely’, yes?” Dietrich chuckled as he pushed his glasses up and looked into the rearview mirror at the minivan behind them.. “Haven’t heard you say that in a while. Is that stomach bug you had gone?’ _

_ “Yes.” No. It was probably morning sickness and it wouldn’t be gone for a little while. “Still brought some crackers just in case.” _

_ “I’d hate for you to work at the cash register all day again,” Dietrich pulled forward as the light turned green. “I miss your autopsy jokes.” _

_ “I’ve been using those same jokes for twenty-five years,” she laughed. “Aren’t they old?” _

_ “Extremely.” _

_ They laughed. _

_ They drove down the alley that used to take them home and parked behind the shop, behind the new tenant's vehicle, their old parking spot. They went in the back door of the store and flickered on the start of a normal Friday and they went to their respective domains in the shop. Dietrich sharpened the knives and pulled trays and shanks out of the meat locker to the display case. Elsie started the paperwork and opened up the cash box. And in this lull of the morning in the shop lead her mind to drift into different directions. _

_ What would life be like in this shop nine months from now? That would be - she flipped through the months as she tried to count out tens - December. Christmas time. They'd be butchering hams by the dozens then in preparation for the holiday. All hands had to be on deck for that entire month. And then to add having a baby in the middle of all of that craziness? _

_ She smiled to herself as she placed the money absently into the antique cash register.  _

_ She could only imagine the mess Dietrich would be at the end of all this. A new baby during their busiest time of the year. He was a bundle of nerves when Augustus was born, during the off-season and far away from the nearest holiday. Yes, it was his first time being a father and yes there was a snowstorm that week, but compared to now, it seemed like a walk in the park.  _

_ But they had Augustus this time around. He was old enough to work with knives and manage the cash register now. He was old enough to help with this child and be a good big brother to him or her. _

_ Yeah. They could do this. At least, she believed they could.  _

_ Another glimpse into the next five years and she was seeing them bringing the new baby home from the hospital. Teaching him or her to speak by pointing out an object - first in German, then in English.  Making the child a  _ Schultuete  _ for the first day of kindergarten, posing for a family photo in front of the house like they had done with Augustus. _

_ Her daydreams continued as she pulled out the folder to start the paperwork, but she couldn’t work through the monotony, the same forms she had been filling out for years, because every moment she drifted off to think about her baby, she became breathless and bewildered. _

_ She shook her head. They had too much to do today. She had to stay focused on getting ready. She pushed aside the paperwork as she went into the back to assist Dietrich with setting up the display cases, tying her apron around her waist, securing her hairnet, and placing on a pair of gloves. _

_ She began to place the ground beef and pork into their places as she thought back to when Augustus was little and she had him in a wrap, holding him close and rocking him gently as she did work in the back office space. His soft sighs against her chest. His small fussing whenever she shifted position, a jolt in his sleep.  _

_ “ _ Schatzi _ ,” Dietrich interrupted her reflections on her first baby, her dreams of this new one. “You put the turkey where the lean beef was supposed to go.” _

_ “Oh.” She looked down at her work. “I suppose I did.” _

_ “Are you sure you are ‘lovely’, Elsie?” Dietrich asked. “You seem so off today.” _

_ “Off?” She echoed his words, knowing she was not subtle about this. If the weeks of illness and exhaustion hadn't clued him into this knowledge prior to before it came into her awareness, she was sure all the daydreaming did. She had always gotten like that the first three times before Augustus. (It was ironically during that pregnancy - the only pregnancy that resulted in a child - that she was so tight-lipped, scared of jinxing herself once more.) _

_ “Yes, just, I don’t know, you’re much quieter today. But you’re just smiling anyway. It’s very unlike you.” _

_ She bit her lip but the words tumbled out. _

_ “I’m pregnant, Dietrich.” _

Schwanger.

_ She looked up at her husband expectantly waiting for his answer, for confirmation that he had heard her. His grey eyes widened, blinked twice, as he took a deep inhale of breath and repeated, “You’re pregnant?” _

_ And the words streamed past her consciousness. “I found out today, took the test this morning and it came back positive. It could be wrong, but Dietrich, it’s been so long this has happened I think it’s true this time.” She looked away. “I mean, I hope so.” She honestly hoped this was true, but she couldn’t read past her husband’s shocked expression. Clasping her hands together, fidgeting with her fingers, she asked,“What do you think?” _

_ “I think it’s the best news I’ve heard.” _

_ She looked her husband in eyes through the sudden rush of happy tears. “Yes?” _

_ “Yes.” _

_ Her emotions or her hormones or whatever took over and she started to cry as she threw herself at him, crouching down to rest her head against his shoulder. His beefy arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her close. As Elsie was being supported, probably soaking the red and white striped shirt Dietrich was wearing, she heard her husband take several deep inhales of breath, fighting his own urge to cry. _

_ What set him off, however, was when the bell above the door rang and a customer asked, “Hey, are you guys open?” Dietrich pulled himself from their embrace and waved him off before he collapsed again and hugged her tighter. _

_ They couldn’t open the store today, now that life had thrown them this little curveball. Instead, they drove to the beachfront instead. In the freezing March weather, they got lunch at a place on the boardwalk. They talked and talked and talked - the most that had that didn’t have dollar signs attached and therapist to nudge them. They talked and talked about the baby - it was so beautiful to think  _ their  _ baby. About what he or she would be like. About raising him or her in America. About what that meant. About hiring somebody a few days a week so Elsie could take it easy during the pregnancy and stay home with the baby. About how crazy life was going to get in a few months. _

_ “So, you’re okay with this?” Elsie asked as they sat on a bench overlooking the abandoned beach, watching seagulls flock and fight on the sand drifts. She smiled and leaned against his shoulder. “You don’t feel like we’re too old for this?” _

_ Dietrich smiled under his mustache. A hand reached over and pushed aside her cardigan and a strong hand pressed against her stomach, still (relatively) flat.  _

_ “We’ve done it before and we can do it again.” _

_ She closed her eyes and allowed herself to dream once more that day, inhaling the salty sea air, her visions now so clear. _

_ She saw another baby being nursed by herself at an obscene hour, tired and disarrayed but every time she looked down at the contented child suckling, she could ignore the clock on the wall. _

_ She saw Augustus with the child, older now, delighted as he read from one of the books he loved when he was a child himself.  _

_ She saw Dietrich holding the child, laughing at something the baby chattered to him, the baby’s chubby arms wrapped around his neck and plump cheeks resting against his shoulder. _

_ It was a picture she could get used to. _

***

Augustus and Vati had to rush to the shop to meet the delivery. But the stress of the store never got easier after that initial stress of meeting the beef men on time; soon after they arrived, the morning crowd of old women who were very particular about their Sunday roasts swarmed. After them, it was the farmer’s market crowd, as Vati referred to the group that asked so many questions about sausages. Because of the loitering group, it wasn’t until twelve when they finally got a lull that allowed them to put up a sign and enjoy lunch in the backroom.

The back room was very similar to the one in their shop on Utermarkt, with the old, scratched roll-top desk, the refrigerator covered in magnets from Rostock or Chiemsee, the weary coffee maker that was older than Augustus sitting on a filing cabinet next to a loaf of bread and a half-finished bag of potato chips. 

From the bread, they had a makeshift lunch of sandwiches from sliced ham. Vati found some delicatessen sides in Tupperware from deep within the fridge. He sat at the desk, constantly checking his phone, on edge every time he received a text message. Augustus leaned up against the wall and picked at bacon bits in the potato salad Mama made earlier in the week. 

These lunches crowded in the back office had been staples of his life since he was nearly nine and could pitch in on weekends. No one let him near the actual meat, but there was always floors to mop, wax paper to tear, display cases to take a wet rag to, especially on the busy days. Now that he was almost fourteen, he could be trusted to make sure the front was stocked, that the ground beef was measured out to the exact quarter of a pound, and the correct change was given. Life at the butcher shop had been so ingrained with his own when he was so young and he knew that his responsibility would be increasing in these coming months. 

The still unboxed Pack ’N Play sat against the wall in the same fashion Augustus was leaning. They had bought it for days when Mama needed to come in and work in the office here and couldn’t find a sitter. Before that, they thought about taking the apartment upstairs off the rental market and having that become Mama’s office. But Vati insisted they keep it open; the rent would be a nice income boost.

In between bites of his sandwich, Vati skimmed the paper on the desk and murmured to himself. Every now and again, he’d take a pen and mark something on a sticky note and adhere it to the desk’s surface. From what Augustus could see from when he peered over his father’s shoulder, it was a to-do list.

“You should add putting together the crib,” Augustus added.

Vati looked up from his ever-growing to-do list, first to Augustus and then to the box in the corner. “I supposed I should.”

He scribbled it down and reached for his sandwich.

Augustus asked, “Vati?”

“Yes?”

“You’re going to teach the baby all of this?”

Vati set his sandwich down and rolled the chair so that he was facing his son, a quizzical look on his face. “Of course. Why, do you think because she is a girl, that she won’t take to this work?”

“No,” Augustus began. “It’s just . . .”

“Because your mother is one of the most efficient and skillful butchers I have ever known. As was my mother. Your sister is a Gloop, she has butchering in her veins.”

“No it’s not that she can’t do any of this,” Augustus said. He sighed. “It will just be strange when it’s not the two of us working together as a father and son team.”

This comment took his father by surprise; he sat further back in the chair before he started,“The baby might be a natural born butcher, Augustus, but she won’t be born with a knife in her hand.” He paused for a moment and leaned against the desk. “I didn’t know you valued our time together. You’ve been resistant to this since you were a kid yourself.”

Augustus didn’t know what to say and instead forked three potatoes and averted his eyes.

Dietrich Gloop never seemed to smile, at least not to Augustus during work, his curly mustache always obscuring his lips and eyebrows constantly knit together in some sort of frustration. But he looked at Augustus with such pride in that moment. And as much as Augustus complained about this back-breaking, almost thankless line of work that was the family business, it was who the Gloops were. 

“It is just the change that is really bothering me,” Augustus finally confessed. 

“Yes?” Vati confirmed, nodding slowly. 

He took a moment to compose his thoughts.

“You know, I am the middle child of my brothers. Friedrich came three years after me. Apparently, at that time I was a handful. And your mother? She kept begging Oma and Opa to take Aunt Vikki back to the hospital. We weren’t your age, but it was still a hard adjustment.”

He took a deep breath. “In time, it will be easy,” Vati assured. “And eventually you will want to call your sister constantly like your mother.” He then looked to the clock on the wall. “ _ Schiese! _ We should be getting back to work.”

The quickly finished up the rest of their meal. The father and son then scrubbed like surgeons and tied their aprons, ready for what the rest of their weekend held.

***

_ “Can you believe it?”Doris asked as she and Elsie stood on the edge of the line marking the basketball court. _

_ Before them, some hundred and twenty eleven through fourteen-year-olds danced to some blaring pop music that the women had maybe once heard on the radio, but the kids seemed to know every word. Somehow, the bobbing sea of adolescents, they had found Mike and Augustus with their friend Charlie. Mike was still implementing his “no-dancing” stance, arms folded, but there were another two guys and - believe or not - a  _ girl  _ talking over the blaring music in a loose circle with the three friends.  _

_ “Our boys are growing up! Branching out and going to their first big dance. Doesn’t it seem just yesterday we were teaching them to walk and changing their diapers?” _

_ “Yeah,” Elsie said with a faint smile and set her crossed arms in front of her stomach.  _

_ The day after she found out she was pregnant, it was Saint Patrick’s Day. Over the years, the Teavee and the Gloop families started an annual tradition of having dinner at O'Keefe's Tavern, a little Irish pub in town. The four adults would “ _ Prost! _ ” to on-tap Guinness and Shepherd's pie. That night proved to be one of the most stressful that Elsie had been faced with in her entire life as she declined beer, trying to persuade Doris and Norman that she was still feeling ill, though beer had never made her sick before. _

_ Doris was observant, Elsie knew. And they had been close for so long, she was waiting to be confronted by her friend about why she was trying to avoid anything that might involve alcohol. But somehow, that confrontation never came. Both of them got so wrapped up in their lives - Elsie with the business, Doris with being a high school geography teacher - that they didn’t really have much time to reconnect until the beginning of May when they were both tasked by the PTA to help chaperone the Spring Fling Dance.  _

_ It was nice, for them to be together again and on the Saturday morning before the dance when they drove to the party store to pick up last-minute decorations.  They picked up right where they left off, talking about what was happening with their work and with Mike and Augustus. But as far as Elsie knew, Doris hadn’t picked up on anything different.  _

_ Between the frantic run to the Party City to blowing up balloons and tying off little baggies of cookies to be sold to the kids for twenty-five cents each to finally rushing back home to make sure Mike and Augustus had taken showers and picked out unwrinkled button-downs, there was little time for Doris to be nosy about much.No one else in the PTA remarked about the way Elsie still clung to a cardigan despite the late spring weather, keeping it wrapped around herself. Just starting her fourteenth week, she was starting to struggle to mask her pregnancy.  _

_ The whole focus of the night went to Mike and Augustus. They looked so handsome in their (semi-wrinkles-less) button down shirts and ties that they had protested. It was now, retrospective to all the craziness of trying to get read and snap as many photos as they could in front of the tree, that she realized how quickly her baby was growing up. Every day, he seemed to look more and more “thirteen.” The days when he was snuggled against her in a wrap or balance against her hip, head rolled on her shoulder seems both so long ago and like only yesterday. _

_ But every time she began to mourn the steady loss of the childness of her son, she could dream about the new baby.  The baby that earlier that week, during their lunch hour, she had Dietrich had seen at her doctor’s appointment via an ultrasound. A completely healthy child - possibly a little girl from what the technician declared.  _

_ It was starting to feel much more real, now that she was out of the clear for possibly miscarrying. That was why she didn’t feel like her lips betrayed her when she mused aloud, “I can’t believe I get to do this all again.” _

_ She didn’t think her words could have been heard properly over the music, but Doris stood close and had managed to hear every syllable. _

_ “Again?” Doris began. “Oh, you mean the dance! Well, yeah, they can go next year but if not there’s always . . . oh.”  _

_ Her expression told of the sudden explosion in her awareness. _

“ _ Oh my god.” Doris breathed again, before all too suddenly wrapping her bony arms around Elsie, telling her, “I had a sneaking suspicion since late March when you turned down that wine tasting trip and said you were sick and I know that you are almost never sick but this is wonderful!” She pulled away. “But how long? Not very far, I’m sure.” _

_ “Fourteen weeks as of Wednesday,” she answered, matter-of-factly.   _

_ “But that gives me plenty of time to plan a shower or something!” Doris exclaimed brightly.  “Oh, this is wonderful! How’s Augustus taking it?” _

_ “Well, we haven’t told Augustus quite yet,” Elsie confessed. “And we were afraid something was going to happen. .  .” _

_ “You’d better tell him before the baby can,” Doris joked. _

_ “Right,” Elsie said with a sigh, as she looked at her son across the dance floor again. Although this dance was something he said he wasn’t excited for, now that he was actually here, he looked happier and ease now that he had found a group of friends. And it wasn’t just at the dance, she noted. In this year, he had come more into his own, adjusted to the new life the Gloop family was making for themselves.  _

_ But there he was, oblivious to the change over the horizon.  _

***

The shop closed at four-thirty on Saturdays, but there was still a good deal of time and chores to do to prepare for their one-day break. The meat had to be properly stored, the deposits had to be made, the files and receipts organized for Mama’s careful eye to exam and place into reports and tax forms. By the time they got home at 6, the house was exceedingly warm and they could hear something frying on the stovetop, the smell of oil hitting them across their pinked and cold cheeks.

Vati didn’t even bother with removing his coat, desperate to investigate what the delicious smell was. Surely, at almost forty-weeks pregnant, and struggling to make supper for months, Mama couldn’t be bothered making dinner. But, when the two men turned the corner, they found her rolling a flour-dusted pork cutlet. On the stove, sizzling in the vat of hot oil, was schnitzel.

After the measly meal of sandwiches and leftovers, the  _ thought _ of the breaded and fried dish made Augustus salivate. And it only got worse when he saw potatoes boiling alongside the schnitzel.

Barely looking up from her work of pounding the pork cutlet, she greeted them. “Hello, my dumplings!”

“Well, you had a productive day,” Vati observed.

“I did!Doris and I went out to lunch and we started on Christmas shopping,” Mama told them. “And usually that would have exhausted me, but I had so much energy when I came home.”

Vati took off his jacket and set it on the back of one of the chair in the kitchen and Augustus followed suit.

“So rather than let these pork chops go to waste, I made schnitzel,” she said brightly as she set her rolling pin down and went over to the stove to flip the breaded cutlets. “And there is a torte in the oven as well.”

Augustus had been expecting to go out to eat again, but Mama’s home cooking was better than anything a restaurant could offer, so he immediately went to the cupboard and grabbed plates. He went into the dining room and began setting the places, but he heard Vati emerge from the powder room in the hall outside the kitchen, saying, “Elsie did you clean the bathroom?”

“The bathrooms both upstairs and downstairs and I got two loads of laundry done,” she called back, emerging from the kitchen, flour on her cheeks, carrying in the first plate of schnitzel.

The smell of cooking oil and burning cinnamon candles and baking strawberry torte lingered in the area well into the rest of the night. It was the kind of warmth Augustus hadn’t had in a long time. Mama asked how work went and Vati told the story about the customer who asked for a cheddar-cheese infused bratwurst and how they were both appalled. 

The conversation eventually turned to what Sunday was shaping up to be.  There was Mass in the morning, of course, but a myriad of things to do around the house. But instead about dividing and conquering the laundry and the leaves in the front yard and weathering the drafty window in the living room, Vati turned to Augustus and asked, “Do you and your friends have something planned?”

Augustus blinked. “Well, we wanted to see a movie and grab pizza.”

“Take the day off,” Vati said. “Have fun with your friends.”

“Are you sure?” Augustus asked slowly. On busy weekends like this, especially the weekend before their reality altered, Vati was hesitant to not at least nag Augustus to stay at home and help. But here he was, offering up a free afternoon. Augustus wanted to question it, but didn’t, and only thanked his parents before they asked what he wanted to see over the torte and coffee.

Later, when, they were finishing up the dishes, Augustus asked his mother if she had put in a good word for him.

“No, that was all him,” Mama confirmed, flicking her hands over the sink before putting on the cheap wedding band (a temporary replacement for the real one that no longer fit) on its place on her right hand. As she spun it back into its place she said, “Your father is a good man, pumpkin. He knows how hard you’ve been working these past few weeks.”

And even if things had just been given to him recently out of pity, he felt, that perhaps, he and his father finally had something of an understanding and this gift was genuine.

***

_ Augustus had always been quiet. He had been a serious, contemplative child at times - there was no doubt he was Dietrich’s, Elsie often jested - but the last two days, he had barely made a peep. He didn’t join her in singing along with songs on the radio in the butcher shop. He gave monosyllabic answers when asked about his day. After dinner, he made himself scarce and did homework in his bedroom instead of at the kitchen table. _

_ “He’s mad at us,” she said to her husband as they were preparing to go to bed. She stood against the frame that merged the bedroom with their bathroom.  _

_ Dietrich was already tucked under the covers, reading one of his mysteries through his perched glasses. He looked up at her and then looked back to the page. “What could he be mad about?” _

_ Elsie didn’t want to speak the truth. Instead, her words came out as “All this . . . “ as she motioned to herself. _

_ “I can see why he would be upset,” Dietrich said, not even bothering to set down his book. “But, we didn’t do anything wrong.” _

_ They just started having sex again after years of a lack of intimacy, rhythm method be damned, and now had to move around their comfy family-of-three existence.  _

_ “We’re not just his Mother and Father,” he added, sounding just like the therapist. “He doesn’t mandate what we do as a couple.” _

_ “I know.” Elsie sat on the bed, back facing her husband. There still, even though she knew all of these facts that her husband repeated, there was still the guilt that weighed over her. For years, she had done her absolute best to provide as much stability to her son’s life as possible, but yet she was also responsible for the biggest upheaval in his entire life.  _

_ “It’s ironic, that the idea that we’re not just parents to someone made us parents again?” She asked after a moment. _

_ “Maybe so,” Dietrich responded. _

_ Elsie pushed the sheets aside and laid down, her hands falling above where her belly was starting to swell. Although she hadn’t been nostalgic for the soreness in her legs and the migraines, she missed this part of pregnancy, having actual proof that their baby was growing and thriving. The three times before Augustus, she had never made it very far and it only left her with the lingering pain of the early symptoms and hollowness of an empty womb. _

_ Her fingers followed the precise small curve of her stomach, pressing her fingertips into the side. _

_ “Have you felt anything yet?”Dietrich asked, as he placed his bookmark - a take-out menu for a restaurant close to the butcher shop - back into the mystery and set the book on the side table, leaving a cliffhanger chapter for another time. _

_ “Not yet,” Elsie hummed. “But the doctor said soon.” _

_ Dietrich didn’t say anything as he turned off his lamp and joined his wife, curling up against her. He kissed her forehead and said, “Augustus may be unhappy about this, but he will get used to it.” _

_ She could only hope so.  _


	3. Sunday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today is a day for endings and new beginnings. Happy closing, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.

Augustus awoke to a dreary Sunday morning. The rain beat against his window, the leafless trees in the backyard moaned in the wind and the soft comforts of his bed. He wished that he could just lay here until he went out to the movies with Mike and Charlie, but there was still 9:00 Mass….

His eyes caught the clock beside his bed that read  _ 11:02 _ .

Augustus shot up in bed and threw aside the covers and went downstairs. The smell of cooking oil had been replaced by fresh baked bread and brewing coffee. When he turned the corner into the kitchen, he found his mother and father still sitting in their pajamas at the kitchen table, unconcerned that they had overslept Mass by two hours. The table was filled with their usual morning spread, but he noted that it was to the nines that day; yogurt and berries and sausage and the apple butter accompanied the usual meat and cheese.

“Morning, pickle,” Mama said.

“Aren’t we going to Church?” Augustus asked. They still had time to catch the noon Mass, but it was clear that nobody was going to get out of their pajamas that day when Mama and Vati exchanged knowing looks.

And he suddenly got it all as Mama said gently, “Not today.”

Oh.

_ OH. _

Seeing the look on his face, Mama assured him,, “I’m fine right now.“It won’t be for a little while. Have some breakfast, pumpkin; I made Bauernbrot.”

Augustus approaches the table cautiously, asking, “When did you have time to bake bread?”

“I’ve been up since around six this morning,” she said. “And I couldn’t fall asleep, so I decided to make breakfast.”

He noticed, however, that she only had a single slice of bread, buttered, and a cup of tea in front of her, contrasted with the spread that Vati had on his plate and the large cup of coffee.

Augustus sat down between them and began to fork a slice of ham when Mama mumbled a word that Augustus was sure he had never heard his mother say before under a short and sharp breath.

The two Gloop men’s eyes frantically shifted to her; Vati’s chair slid slightly from underneath the table, but Mama waved her hand and dismissed it; she insisted that she was fine. But it was only a glance in the long hours they had ahead of them.

And right after her contraction ebbed, she was back to going on as if this was a typical morning, asking for Vati to pass the lemon slices for her tea. While Augustus picked at his sausage, she took another slice of bread and added plain butter once more.

She then asked when Augustus’ movie was.

In this revelation, he had forgotten about the plans he made with Mike and Charlie. He didn’t feel right to go and leave the family while the fourth member was making her imminent appearance. He couldn’t leave Mama when she was going to go through so much pain (though part of him grimaced at the thought of seeing her like that with nothing he could do.)

“I don’t have to go,” he said.

She stopped buttering her slice of bread and looked at him. “ _ Liebchen _ , you were looking forward to it.”

Augustus shrugged.

After her light breakfast, she suggested that they watch a movie or something - it’d keep her distracted from the pain, at least. They ended up digging up an old movie -  _ Hochzeit in Weltzow _ . As the opening scene started, Augustus texted Mike.

_ I cannot go to the movies today. _

Mike was essentially attached to his phone and half a minute later, there was a:  _ y not????  _ Response from him before an:  _ oh crap it’s today??? _

_ Yes. _

_ then i’ll probably see u later. _

Augustus was supposed to stay with the Teavees when the time came close. 

With a sigh, he sent a reply and then turned off his phone before focusing on the movie.

***

_ Eventually, her son started to return to his normal self, but every time the baby was brought up, he went right back into his shell although everyone else seemed happy. Their family in Germany found out and the cards of well-wishes started pouring in. Neighbors, people from the butcher shop congratulated them. They started spending evenings pricing things at stores.  _

_ But other than that, life went on. _

_ Still, there would come a time when that life would be permanently disrupted from what it had been before. Augustus’ resistance to this change was understandable, and she only prayed that he’d move past it at some point. _

_ Time wore on. Spring bloomed into summer and the office upstairs started to slowly seep back downstairs and nursery furniture went upstairs. School finished for the summer and Augustus spent more time with Charlie and Mike when he got time away from the butcher shop. Elsie spent much of the time she had at the sewing machine either adjusting her own clothes or creating new things for the baby. At home, they didn’t talk as much as they had. From across the room, as she finished stitching the details on a tiny sundress made from scrap yellow fabric, she’d watch him thumb through a book and occasionally reply to the soft  _ ding  _ of text messages from Michael Teavee. He didn’t look up, he didn’t say anything. _

_ Days were torn off the calendar. People began placing orders for Fourth of July ribs and bratwursts. This meant long days standing up, grinding and walking back and forth between the back and the front of the store. Although the month of June was a financially lucrative, it wasn’t helping Elsie health-wise.  One afternoon just before the holiday, at their busiest time, was when it happened. Her entire body froze up as she felt her stomach tighten while she bent over the case to grab a string of sausage links. Pain rippled down her legs and she suddenly felt weak. _

_ She didn’t remember who helped her to the back office if it was Dietrich or Aaron, but she found herself sitting in the office chair, clutching her stomach, a wet cloth against her forehead.  Dietrich’s comforting words accompanied the way he gently held her hand. Aaron brought in a glass of water.  _

_ Elsie took a drink and adjusted her apron and maternity shirt. _

_ As she started to feel back to normal, ready to go back because they had too much to do, Dietrich held her back and said she needed to go to the hospital. The thought of going back to the hospital frightened her; memories of Klinikum Garmisch-Partenkirchen flooded over her as she remembered the second time, the time with so much blood. She never wanted to relive that day, but she knew she had to go back. _

_ She braved the long admittance to the emergency room. Dietrich was by her side the entire time, through the white linoleum hallways and the beige curtained rooms. She prayed. She prayed hard that everything would be alright. _

_ The best sound she had ever heard in the world was Augustus’ first cry, on that wintry February evening. But the sound of this baby’s heartbeat, strong and firm, was a close second. The pretty nurse with the nice nails handed her a tissue as she cried. (She handed the box to Dietrich.) _

_ The pain in her stomach had been a small contraction, something she had not had with Augustus. The doctor insisted that it was normal; she’d just need to take it easy if it persisted, and to call him if it lasted more than four hours. _

_ Although she’d rather go back to the shop and help her husband and her co-worker with the holiday work, she decided it was best to go home and spend the rest of the day on the couch. He was hesitant to leave her alone, but Dietrich finally dropped her off at the house. This time alone gave her plenty of space to cast on the sweater she was planning on making for the baby. With this new child being a girl, she got to explore patterns she didn’t get to knit when Augustus was a baby. She had dreamed of lace and eyelets and pearl buttons. _

_ She was so wrapped up in starting the back of the sweater and the music playing over the radio in the living room that it startled her when she heard the door open. Augustus had spent the night at Mike’s and in all of the chaos of that morning, she had failed to keep him in the loop. As he rounded the corner to see where the source of Foreigner was coming from.  _

_ “Mama?” _

_ “Hello, pumpkin,” she said with a soft sigh, glad to see him after such a long day.  _

_ “You’re home.” He seemed hesitant as he knew that for anyone to be home before the shop closed was highly unusual and had the reason for concern. “Is everything okay?” _

_ She answered truthfully. “I’m fine. Just wasn’t feeling well. I went to the hospital earlier, but everything’s fine.” _

_ Augustus nodded. Slowly, he asked, “And -” _

_ “The baby? She’s fine too,” Elsie told him, setting her knitting down. “She’s actually kicking up a storm right now.” _

_ He nodded and crossed the room to sit down on the chair opposite her. His face was still etched with concern and worry.  _

_ “How was your sleepover?” She asked, setting aside her project into the yarn bowl on the side table, placing a sticky note on where she had left off on the budding lace pattern. _

_ Only giving a half-hearted shrug, Augustus set his backpack down, but it clear that he wasn’t going to be letting this subject down. _

_ “Are you sure you’re fine because going to the hospital seems very serious and -” _

_ And just like that, he was back. Her son who cared so much, who was very loving, who used to carry Band-Aids in his pocket to give to people who got hurt, who used to say he wanted to be a nurse because he wanted to help people . . . _

_ She stopped his rambling, by reaching for his hand and putting it right above her navel, right where the baby kicked. He felt it against his hand, didn’t jerk back at the sudden, alien movement. Instead, his bright-blue eyes grew the size of plates. _

_ “She’s fine. I’m fine. It was just something that happened years ago that caused your father concern.” _

_ She had never admitted this to Augustus, although she believes that perhaps he might have known somewhat about it, given that he was an only child for thirteen years. She held Augustus’ hand her in her own, remembering how small they used to be. “Before you, I had three other children. But I never got to hold any of them.” _

_ She took a deep breath. “You and this baby are the most important things to me. And I know you feel as though she’s taking your place as my baby, but she’s not. Just as you came and my love for my other three did not change.”  _

_ He nodded slowly and sat down. He didn’t ask any other questions, simply sitting down next to her.  _

_ And Augustus seemed to understand. Or at least he would, in time. _

***

The hours clocked by slowly, with everyone on edge. There was no denying that this was happening tonight.  Movies were popped into the DVD player – distractions – but it couldn’t keep Vati from a near-constant check on Mama and a glance at the cuckoo clock on the wall. As time wore on, Mama was less focused on the old classics they had found for her and often had to get up and walk the house. Sometime around mid-afternoon, however, was when the carpet paths were too confining for Mama and she and Vati decided to take a walk around the block.

Lunch was a free-for-all affair, not quite up to the par of the breakfast, reheating leftovers and assembling something out of odds-and-ends in the fridge. Sitting in front of the television, he watched the end of  _ Dirty Dancing _ by himself, eating reheated mashed potatoes and somewhat dry schnitzel.

And while all this was happening, he forgot all about the homework he had due the very next day. He wasn’t even sure if he’d be going to school the next day, but there was a pang of guilt for putting it off until the absolute last minute. Mrs. Hunterson didn’t see him as the greatest biology student she had, but he made sure to turn his work in on time. So later that night, Augustus sat down at the desk in his room and tried to finish up the remaining eight short-answer questions about ecosystems. But it was hard to concentrate.

 

Mama’s moans were resonating down the hall frequently now, her heavy footsteps went up and down the hallway as she and Vati paced. Augustus didn’t even want to peek through the door to see how things were going and instead grabbed for his pair of earbuds and his iPod to drown out his worry, the sounds of Journey taking him to a different place to write about the impact of housing development on wetlands. Dusk began to settle in – winter was approaching fast – and darkness started to creep into Augustus’ bedroom while he worked and listened to his music.

But even the loud guitar and drums could not keep from the sound of a slamming fist against the door and his name being called. At once, he pulled out his earbuds out from his ears and whipped around to face his father, whom Augustus had never seen more disheveled with his face red and glasses askew.

His command is short and quick: “Grab your bags and meet us in the car.”

Bewildered, he paused the song. “Now?”

“Yes, hurry up,” his father said sternly, turning and rushing down the hallway to grab the bags he needed.

Augustus tucked the ecosystem homework into the folder before him and the folder went into his backpack. Weeks ago, when Vati brought out old duffel bags and a suitcase, he handed one to Augustus and told him to pack a few outfits and things for staying over at the Teavee household. The red-colored duffle was filled with a sundry of his flannel shirts, sweaters, and jeans, a spare toothbrush and toothpaste set, and mini-sized shampoo and soap – stolen from the last time they went to Germany and their flight home was canceled, resulting in the rare overnight stay in a hotel.

With the urgency his father had, Augustus didn’t have a moment to think about the potential of any last-minute additions. He just grabbed the duffle by the handles, slung his backpack over his shoulder, and with his free hand, snapped off the light.

When he arrived downstairs, he could see the car already running in the driveway. Vati was putting the bags in the back. Augustus didn’t have the time to tug on a jacket over his sweater, deciding he would be warm enough what he had been wearing to survive the ten-minute car ride over to the Teavee’s neighborhood.

The door locked behind Augustus as he walked down onto the porch. It wasn’t until he handed Vati his duffle bag to stuff in the back of the car that he realized that the final  _ click _ of the back door shutting was the last time that the house would be for a family of three.

Mama was already seated up front. The quick glance he got at her as he slid into the back bench of the van, she was leaning against the headrest, her face clenched up in muted pain, her braid haphazard, her cape unclasped.

It was a strange, somewhat tense journey. Vati, who was a decent and law-abiding driver, sped through the streets and shaved nearly a whole minute off the time it usually took to get the Teavee home. It was not late at night, so the front of the ranch-style home was glimmering with the flickering of the television screen. The family must have just finished supper – they liked to have their evening meal early, from what Augustus knew – but as soon as the family rolled into the small driveway, Mrs. Teavee emerged, wrapped in her trench coat.

Vati parked the car and rolled down the window as Augustus unbuckled his seatbelt and grabbed his backpack, draping his coat back over his arm.

“We weren’t expecting you to stop by until a little later this week,” she said with a soft smile.

“You know how children can be,” Vati replied, looking over to Mama who was slumped against the seat, already exhausted.

“Do I ever. Mikey was three weeks early and gave zero warning of his appearance,” Mrs. Teavee added. She turned her attention to Mama. “How you feeling, Elsie?”

Mama only laughed. “I didn’t forget how much this hurt.”

Augustus grabbed his bag from the back and stood next to Mrs. Teavee, expectantly, unsure what to say or do. He had to say goodbye -

“Keep us posted, if you can,” Mrs. Teavee reminded them. “Send some pictures too!”

“We’ll try,” Vati promised, although Augustus was pretty sure his father didn’t know how to send photos over text, given the rarity of him using his cellphone.

And with that, Vati shifted the gears of the car and started it back up, but Augustus stopped them by leaning over to still open window and calling, “ _ Ich liebe dich, Mama _ .”

Mama leaned forward and with a soft smile replied, “ _ Ich liebe dich auch, Augustus.” _

The van pulled out of the driveway and rolled down the street, disappearing into the night. Mrs. Teavee reached for the duffel bag and wrapped her arm around Augustus, saying the words he needed to hear just at that moment: “Come on in, we just ordered a pizza.”

The other two members of the Teavee family are on the couch; Mr. Teavee watching an American football game, Mike staring more intently at his phone, swiping something idly with his thumb. But he wasn’t going to stay idle for long because as soon as Mrs Teavee shut the door, she called out, “Mikey, can you help Augustus get his things into your bedroom, make him feel at home?”

It took another instance of, “Mike, did you hear me?” for Michael to actually respond, huffing and rolling his eyes, but he ended up leading Augustus down the hall back to his bedroom, black and devoid of any of the cheery colors and midcentury modern furniture of the rest of the house. There was a little futon couch in Mike’s room, which already had a floral coverlet and two pink-cased pillows on top of it.

Augustus set his bags in the space between the pillow and set his jacket on the railing of the futon.

Mike, slumped against the doorframe, said, “Well, we didn’t get to see the movie today, but at least you’re getting me out of school tomorrow.”

“You’re out of school?” Augustus asked, looking over his shoulder at the other boy quizzically. 

“Yeah, mom’s taking off and she said I could ditch, too,” Mike explained. “You know, ‘cause I’m apparently ‘moral support.’” He made air quotes with his fingers. 

He then added, with a smirk, “It’s a little stupid they don’t trust you to stay home alone for a night.” Augustus didn’t want to retaliate and tell Mike that  _ his _ parents didn’t trust him to stay entirely by himself for more than a few hours. “I mean, you’re thirteen and all.”

Augustus shrugged. Staying home alone in the darkened house would probably have been worse for him, sitting there, worry creeping over him. 

“But it’s better than, you know, actually being there,” Mike said. “But like, I doubt you’d wanna be there anyway. Nobody likes to think of their mom that way. Not to mention, babies are super ugly when they come out in blood and guts.”

“I do not care much for hospitals, anyway,” Augustus admitted.

“Nobody does, Gloop,” Mike said.

“Boys, time to wash up for dinner,” Mrs. Teavee’s voice resonated through the hallway. “The pizza’s going to be here any minute.”

And so the two boys went outside, because, really, what was better than a pizza at a time like this?


End file.
